Hellmarine: Frost War
by Chaos Nightbringer
Summary: Sergeant Sam Perry is promoted, but he's moved to a rival regiment, one that his old Hellmarines harbor a grudge with. To make matters worse, Protoss are on Braxis, and Sam's been tasked to take them out. But why has he been finding zerg?
1. Chapter 1

Frost War

Disclaimer: I don't own Starcraft.

Chapter 1: Painful Painkiller

Sam was thrown backwards, his armor creaking from the massive blow. Sam merely gritted his teeth and spun so he could kick off the wall. He pressed backwards on the wall, and jumped foreward, servos wining. He struck out with his massive armored fist, impacting Justin in the chest, knocking him onto his ass.

In the surrounding crowds, Michael frowned and put a five-dollar bill into Dixie's open palm. Sam cracked his neck back in place and bent down to grab the rookie's collar. Justin rolled into a ball and kicked out, launching Sam into the air. Michael smiled and tapped Dixie's shoulder. She pouted and handed back the cash. Michael flexed his fingers.

"Asshole." She muttered, and then put another ten into his palm.

Sam reached for his jaw, and discovered it had been severely dislocated. He popped back into place, earning a wince and a groan from the crowd, then landed on his feet. Something suddenly hit him in the stomach, and they were both sent flying, Justin using his weight of ram Sam into the deck. Sam grinned and rolled backward, kicking the sergeant in the face.

About now Richard tackled from behind, knocking him onto his belly, and got off just in time for Justin to land an elbow drop. A massive burst of gauss rifle fire cracked the air, and everyone turned to behold a gaunt marine dressed in the black tailcoat of a Lieutenant. Pieman quickly went to his flask of whiskey and drained a few drops.

Lt. Ricky Sterman lowered his gauss rifle.

"Who started it?" he growled, his knuckles paling on his rifle.

Sam went to immediate attention. "Last minute training, sir."

"Two-on-one isn't a training exercise, Sergeant."

"Permission to speak candidly?"

"By all means, speak candidly."

"They're pansies. And you obviously have not seen me in this kind of one-on-one. And quite frankly, sir, you can kiss my fat armored ass." The corner of Ricky's jaw twitched, revealing only for a moment the sharpened fangs of a Fenrisian wolf, then gritted his teeth.

"You'll report to Commander Locke after you remove your armor. Code word: Rabies."

Sam's face went from passive to enraged, and Dixie was worried he'd charge her husband. Ricky would have not a prayer against Sam outside of a suit of power armor.

"Hellmarines, mount up." Ricky growled, then walked past Sam, taking care to bump into Sam's shoulder.

& & &

Sam stepped into a posh decorated office. His black sergeant's uniform was regulation snapped, but he'd clearly put it on in a bad mood. Commander Jonas Locke was staring at his desk, the front of his white jacket open.

"Sergeant Samual Perry. Fenris born and raised." He said, then straightened in his chair. "Pit fights are for the grunts, boy. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't remove you from the Hellmarines."

Sam remained silent. He didn't have one. "Sir, I don't know a reason worth mentioning, sir."

"Fine. You're being moved to the Prospero First. The Thousand Sons. They lack a officer to use them properly, so you're being promoted to Lieutenant and taking command of the Thousand Sons. You'll be assaulting the Protoss gas reserves on the outer edge. The Hellmarines are in the main assault push, acting as a hit-and-run attack force. Lieutenant Commander."

A young officer appeared in the doorway, saluting.

"Fetch SCV workers and retrieve Lieutenant Perry's armor and weapon, then lead him and his armor to the Prospero barracks."

& & &

A sergeant saluted as Samual stepped onto the deck, the Lieutenant bars on his shoulder and throat. Prospero. Prospero was a natural enemy of Fenris, and the two often went to war, usually resulting in marines being recruited from both. Now Sam was going to be leading their elite. The Hellmarines had often fallen into conflict with their Thousand Sons counter-parts, when Fenrisian and Prospero regiments had been together.

"Sir, Sergeant Crim Magnus." The sergeant shouted.

"At ease, Thousand Son. Lieutenant Samual Perry, taking command." Sam checked his watch. "At fourteen-hundred."

"Thousand Sons, Attention!" the Sons snapped to attention. "Suit up and get ready to hit dirt. We're dropping." The legion of marines bean stripping down to the thick jumpsuit that went on underneath the CMC-400 armor.

Sam went into the corner. He began dressing down, resigned to his fate. For better or worse, he was a Thousand Son now.

Ricky Sterman sat down into his acceleration couch, then pulled down the heavy restraining braces. Dixie did the same next to him, setting her blocky C-10 between her legs.

"Where's Sam?" she murmured. Ricky looked around and realized only Bill's Goliath was being hitched onto the dropship.

"Good question. Locke said he gave him an easy detail." Ricky looked over to his wife, who was looking back at him, worry apparent in her eyes. Ricky looked back to the front, then brought up his Commander battlenet. He searched the database for Sergeant Samual Perry. One entry appeared.

Lieutenant Samual Perry. He checked the regiment. Then his eyes widened, and he cursed.

& & &

Locke was already fit into his CMC-400 when Ricky bust through the door, his rifle raised dangerously. Locke was aware of that particular rifle's abilities, it was the one he'd picked up on Char.

"What the hell are you doing, reassigning my men!" Ricky cried, a certain fury in his eyes. Locke could tell from the dilation he was already juiced on his regular stims.

"What men?" Ricky grabbed the side of the desk and threw it into the wall. He raised his rifle to Locke's nose, and thumbed off the safety.

"If you shoot me, your precious Hellmarines won't last the week. I'm sure the Thousand Sons could use the target practice." Locke said, a slight smile gracing his lips. "I've already sent out a communication to my successor concerning the Hellmarines, and my untimely death. You shoot me, and Sergeant Perry is commanding your firing squad. With our without his cooperation." Ricky's eyes flashed. The muzzle lowered. He thumbed the weapon's selector, then put a needle round into Locke's groin. The needle stabbed through the plate like a knife through bread, and ripped through the soft flesh underneath.

"Now. Get Sam back in the Hellmarines, or next time you won't be walking." Ricky turned around and barged out of the office.

Locke pumped himself full of pain relievers and stimulants, then punched the talk button on his intercom.

"Are we sure the reserves is in heavy Zerg territory?" he said into the speaker.

'Yes, sir.'

Locke grinned.

& & &

Dun, dun, duh. Old Painkiller is heading into a trap. How's Hellmaker gonna react to this?


	2. Chapter 2

I don't own Starcraft

Chapter 2: Feet First to Frost

Sam felt snow crackle and pop under his massive armored boot. He took another hesitant step. Satisfied, he began walking further, until he slipped and fell on his ass. He began to turn around when a Hydralisk face was just a few inches from his. He gave a shout and tried to push himself up, then examined it closely. It was frozen into a block of ice. Not much of a threat. Sam spit on it, and the hydralisk wiggled its jaws.

Bastards were persistent, he had to give 'em that. He put a gauss round into the thing's skull and moved on, careful of the ice.

& & &

Ricky shifted uncomfortably in his acceleration couch. It wasn't even a seat, really, not only had Locke taken the best Goliath pilot, he'd got them an older dropship that literally dropped the Hellmarines. Onto their ass. The red light suddenly went up, and Ricky cursed as his stomach jumped into his chest. As if he needed the adrenaline. He landed squarely, his armor giving a structural integrity warning. The last thing he needed, a faulty set of armor in a hotzone. Looked like Locke was gonna get another needle-round in the balls.

He heard the slam as Michael hit the ground; the massive 950 armor taking the impact hardest, but miraculously suffered almost no damage. Which was amazing, considering the batteries on the back. If he'd landed on one foot, Michael would've been crushed inside his own armor.

A pair of Zealots rushed at Him, Psi blades humming dangerously. Ricky dodged a stab and rifle butted him. The Zealot let out a cry, falling and rolling. Then he jumped and descended on Ricky. He sidestepped again and let loose a burst of rifle fire. The bullets bounced of the Protoss's energy shield. Ricky slammed his rifle on his leg holster and punched out. Hs fist passed through. So, it was only bullet-deflecting. The zealot tripped on a rock and fell into the snow.

Ricky glanced at Michael, who had grabbed the Protoss warrior by a leg and was using him to mop the floor. Ricky was kicked backward.

"Come 'ere, you sonuvabitch." He growled, grabbing the zealot by his collar and tossing him, then punching him midair.

& & &

Dixie felt particularly stretched around these aliens. She could almost hear them crying, talking to her in her own head. Not occasionally like their speech, but as if she was actually part of some hive-mind esque psisonic connection. She was getting a headache, not a good thing, not around these things.

'Child.' Said a deep, but soothing voice, 'Come here. Your race is young, and we would not intervene, but this time I find it necessary.'

"Get out!!" She screamed, clutching your head.

The voice sighed and changed to the voice of Admiral Dugalle 'I gave you and order, soldier, now move out!!' Dixie picked up her rifle and bounded off. There was work to do.

& & &

Short Chapter, but this is gonna be more mysterious. By the end of this I think we'll be having some much bigger story changes than in the Original. Koga, If you're reading this, kiss my ass, I'm full of guts, not shit. Although they are equally disgusting and stinky when left in the sun, they taste a hell of a lot better. Enjoy your dinner.

And Hawki, thanks for posing questions, I like answering them. Gives me an intelligent sorta feeling.


	3. Chapter 3

I don't own Starcraft.

Chapter 3: Dark Templar

Ricky ducked and dodged through phase disrupter cannon fire, when he was suddenly kicked backwards. A blade of blackest night pulsed to life, looking more a like a tear in space than an actual blade. Its owner phased into existence and stalked forward, its blade waving dangerously, hissing and cackling.

Ricky rolled onto his belly and kicked out, pushing himself forward into the line. Bullets were flying around them. Ricky's adrenaline gave a surge as a bullet whizzed a few inches from his head. The Protoss gave a scream of pain and anguish. Ricky turned onto his back just as the disruption blade lunged down on him.

Ricky squeezed the trigger. The blade gave a scream. His rifle barked, once. Ricky's world seemed to stop. He could see the metal spike lancing towards the Dark Templar's chest, breaking snow flakes as it sailed through the air. Then he looked down.

If he could've sighed, he would've. The matter-disrupting energy blade hadn't even cut through the armor, it'd simply phased through, but no this chest. That blade had been five feet long; it had gone straight through him.

He could hear Michael crying out, but suddenly didn't have the strength to ease his fears. He looked up into the Dark Templar's blue eyes.

'My luck couldn't hold out forever. I'm glad it was one like you.'

The Protoss's eye narrowed in sympathy.

"I will remember you for the rest of my life, human. I am glad to see we share a sense of honor." Ricky's world blackened at the edges. The abyss at the edge of his vision began to grow. The Protoss's chest exploded as a round tore through him/it. Ricky closed his eyes. Strength suddenly flooded through him, and a warm presence filled his mind. He could feel it. The khala. The Dark Templar was not connected to it, but he could easily feel it. Then a second, even larger surge of power filled him, like a nuclear reactor in his heart firing up, burning away the darkness.

Ricky's eyes shot open.

"He's awake! Pump him!" Ricky's brain suddenly jumped back to life, super stimulant chemicals pumped and absorbed into his brain, injected through both jugular veins.

Ricky gave a scream, half fury, half pain, and the air around him exploded with pure psisonic force. Everyone around him was suddenly ripped apart and pieced back together repeatedly, atom by explosive atom, until finally settling back into their regular atomic structure. Then a third, ridiculously powerful surge lit up everything, and Ricky's brown eyes ignited into twin blue discs, glowing, no, nearly _burning_ with power.

'We are acel'tul azarath enakanden, the abyss in the flesh. _Dark Archon_.' Ricky looked down at his hands, they weren't burning with barely-contained energies. They looked just as normal as they had twenty minutes ago.

'_This is fucking weird.'_

'_Nah, ya think?'_ The Dark templar growled, annoyed.

'_Where'd you learn that language?'_

'_Author.'_

'_Ahh. The stupid, stupid author.'_ Screw you, Ricky. _'No, screw you!'_ I'm GOD! Semperfi, Mother Fucker! _'Oh, right, and I'm a Dark Archon. Oh, you sonuvabitch.'_

I love my job.

(The opinions of people expressed in conversation, interviews, and implied in writing are in no way the opinions of Chaos Nightbringer or his affiliates. Now suck up your gut and get back to the story…)

& & &

Kikyo stopped in her tracks. This was where she'd been ordered to go. A cloaked protoss decloaked. He was wrapped in black robes, wearing pieces of ancient silvery-black metal. It looked somewhat like a stripped down suit of Zealot armor, sacrificing armor for speed.

"Sir!" She saluted. Zeratul frowned his eyes, then dropped the illusion, and took hold of her mind. Kikyo screamed, but then instantly froze, trapped in his mind lock.

"Do not panic, young one, I am Zeratul, Praetor of the Dark Templar, last mentor of Tassadar the Hero. What is your name?"

"Dixie Sterman. But you can call me Kikyo, if you think we're that close." Zeratul immediately decided he liked this one. The last one had shot themselves upon his first message to them. He could sense terror in her, but not enough to overcome her fierce spirit. Zeratul glimpsed into it, and was almost psisonically blinded by its luminosity. Her spirit was one of fire! Zeratul tentatively touched her spirit with his own, and instantly warmness seeped into him, strong enough to overcome the cold. When he ceased the touch, the warmness stayed there. Zeratul smiled with his eyes, an immeasurable gift, this new warmness, after so many centuries of cold and darkness. Zeratul dived into himself, enjoying the warmth, the heat. It filled him with an almost sexual pleasure. He shook his head and concentrated this heat into a deep chamber of his psyche. He wished to save this.

He'd distribute it among his Dark Templar warriors later, just to let them feel a hint of the warmness so like precious Aiur. Perhaps he'd give some to Artanis as well, a last warm feeling before an immortality of cold on Shakuras. He filed the thought away and concentrated back on Dixie.

"Thank you." He said, his voice filled with sincerity.

"You're welcome." She said, having guessed his feelings. She'd paid for that little gift, though, a little bit of cold had come, filling her with a few pieces of Zeratul's memories. No names, no identities, not enough information to be identities, but merely scenes in Zeratul's long epic of cold and darkness and duty. Zeratul allowed her to move, and she sat down on a rock, setting her C-10 rifle on her lap.

"The Zerg are here." He said, now serious. "A group of warriors is approaching our backup vespene extractors, but all they will find are zerg. They are called the Thousand Sons of Prospero. They are in danger."

Dixie's eyes went wide. "Sam?" She pressed a finger to her earpiece. "Painkiller!"

& & &

Sam looked up at the sound of his call sign. He stood up, setting his rifle down on a small stool. The Gilgamesh Mobile HQ was still at the moment. He walked out of the open back-hatch, pressing a finger to the side of his helmet, pressing the earbud into his ear.

A hissing roar, a crack of ice and snow, and a Ultralisk burst up from the ground, launching Sam into the air. He landed…twenty feet in the wrong direction. The behemoth was between him and his rifle. Sam pulled a massive combat knife from his hip armor, and charged. The Ultralisk roared and charged at him.

& & &

Dixie was knocked over by the force of Sam's mental screams of pain. Wait, that had been pain she'd felt from him. He was actually hurt!

"It is too late." Zeratul sighed. "My warriors will kill him and dispose of his remains."

"What?! Like hell you will!" She launched at Zeratul. She kicked out, but he caught her foot and tossed her to the ground.

"Use your mind, girl. Your mind!" he said. She pushed herself to her feet, then charged. She punched out. Zeratul was there one moment and four feet away the next. Dixie landed face first in snow. She gritted her teeth, subconsciously growling like a hungry wolf, and dived at him, landing at his feet and sweeping her foot along the ground. Zeratul tripped and fell onto his back, and Dixie rolled atop, him, grabbing him by his chest piece.

"Good…very good. But not quite there yet," Zeratul said, then a shadow of him lunged forward and headbutted her off. She touched his spirit, feeling for the warmth she'd planted there, and yanked it. Zeratul, who was getting to his feet, suddenly faltered, giving a cry of anguish and falling to his knees.

The she took a hundred memories of Fenris's cold winters and combined them into a psisonic attack, then pressed them down on Zeratul.

"No! Please…Stop!" He grunted, placing a hand to his mind. He was in almost physical pain, the attack was so vicious!

"Now you listen to me! He's still alive! You and your Dark Templar will help me get him back, or I'll give you so much cold you'll never even remember warmth!"

"No! I'll help you! Just, please, **stop the cold!!**"

Dixie let the attack slip and dissipate, breathing heavily. Zeratul's eyes went for blue to a hateful red, and a black shimmering shadow of psi power formed around his head and shoulders, then launched at her. It hit her in the chest, and Dixie gave a scream of pain.

Zeratul stood, tightening his talons into fists, and pressing the attack of cold and darkness further. He intended to snuff out that fiery spirit of hers! Dixie raised her hands, forming a shield, but it only filtered off some of the attack. She retreated into her deepest reaches, her conscious leaving her 'body,' and took the warmest memories and began to ravel them together and intensify them. He'd showed some immunity to cold, but not the warm, so she decided to try that. She gathered it into an explosive ball and detonated its outer shell, breaking the cold attack in half, and shifted the ball into a pressure and pressed it into Zeratul's mind.

If her first 'gift' of warm was a kiss, this was a bear hug by a burning tree. A searing psisonic attack. This time Zeratul didn't just fall, he was knocked backwards. He screamed in a voice of pure agony, like a man being burned alive. Then she smiled sadistically and intensified the attack again. Zeratul's scream increased in volume, and intensity.

Five Dark Templars jumped atop the short snow-covered butte and decloaked, activating Disruption blades. She shifted part of the attack and hit each in turn, like five quick jabs, then pressed the attack to them too. It was a stretch, but they couldn't fight back enough to break it. Six Dark Templars screamed and writhed in agony, defenseless against something they'd gone without for centuries. A massive armored figure jumped between Kikyo and the Dark Templar, and blasted back her attack with a wave of its psisonic arm.

Ricky's glowing blue eyes were narrowed, and then she suddenly couldn't feel them. He'd sealed her psi powers! How had he done that? Her psi senses slowly began to return, and she probed Ricky's psyche gently. A massive presence turned its psisonic head to look her in the eye, and growled. Dixie's world went black.

& & &

Locke stepped, smiling, onto Braxis. His honor guard of twelve spread out, swerving powerful Gauss gattling guns across their field of vision. Locke smiled wider. Lieutenant Samual Perry was due to be dead. He started forward.

& & &

Locke is now on Braxis, and the Hellmarines are now moving to save Painkiller, and Ricky's a Dark Archon in human form.

Reviews? Anybody?


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Two Betrayals

Sam pulled himself forward, whimpering. Seven whole scythe limbs had been broken off into his body, cutting his spine in four places. His chest was pierced by over thirty spines, and his left arm was completely severed.

A booted foot stomped on his armored hand. Armor squealed and gave way, crushing his hand. Sam winced and hissed, then looked up at the foot's owner. Jonas Locke smiled.

"You." Sam growled. "You caused it all."

"Yeah."

"You're Prospero, aren't you?"

"Oh, no, I'm Fenrisian."

"Why? Why this?"

"Because you Hellmarines are in my way. You're just the first in a long line of attacks to whittle you down." Locke stepped off of Sam's hand.

"The Thousand Sons aren't effective enough to destroy you, yet. But they've pledged their services, so I'm not going to pass up the opportunity. I'm gonna make general within the year. But first you Fenrisian need to go." He pulled a needle pistol from his hip holster, aimed at Sam's chest, and emptied the clip on full automatic.

& & &

Ricky paled.

'It's Painkiller!' the Protoss cried. Ricky turned and ran, spitting rapid fire orders.

"Michael! Get the Firebats moving! Bill, Justin, and Richard! Move your marines on my position!" Dixie ran along with him.

"How are you conscious?" Ricky asked.

"I'm better than that, Ricky." She replied.

Zeratul watched their retreating backs. Didn't they know he was doomed? This Painkiller was dead, simple as that. Then again, fallen Templar often chose the path of the Dragoon, even Dark Templar. Zeratul looked to his Dark Templar warriors. Wouldn't they save their friends from the zerg? Zeratul looked back to the humans, then wrapped himself in a cloak and followed them at a run.

& & &

Crim Magnus approached Locke.

"Sir. We're ready to hit the rest of them."

"Good. They'll be near the front. Stay behind the second line and snipe them, it'll be dismissed as friendly fire." Magnus smiled, then his head exploded in his helmet. Locke ducked down, then sought the source of the shot. Sam stood their, the needle pistol in his hand. Locke's honor guard turned and pulled the triggers. The barrels of their guns began to spin, when all of them were suddenly cut down by bodiless tears in space.

Six Dark Templars decloaked, surrounding Locke. All of them had energy blades on both arms. The leader stepped forward, darker than any night Locke had ever seen. Locke just smiled and disappeared in a flash.

"Recall!" Zeratul roared. Who had Recall? The remains of the Conclave. Zeratul growled, then deactivated his blades and cloaked again. His warriors followed him away from the battlefield. They had work to do.

& & &

Daggoth extended his full alertness to Braxis. Ah…the Hellmarines were there. And one was damaged. Daggoth smiled greedily. Finally an equal to Kerrigan. Daggoth tingled at the possibilities. He gave the brood there one order: capture the human. Daggoth removed the mass of his alertness from Braxis, not wanting to spoil his own surprise. He gave another greater tingle.

& & &

Sam tried to stumble a step forward, but wound up on his face. Dammit. He was suddenly rolled over. Ricky and Dixie were looking him over, their eyes wide.

"What the hell happened to your eyes?"

"Long story." Sam shook his head.

"Don't have enough time."

"Don't say that!" Dixie shouted at him.

"Too late." Sam spat, then popped his neck. The pain was great. He could feel every scythe puncturing his organs. A medic got to his knees beside Sam, six mechanical chiurgeon arms flashing across him. He started up a buzzsaw and began to cut through the armor. The chiurgeon arms grabbed the edges and ripped the armor open. Dixie turned and puked. Ricky was staring at it with way too much white in his eyes.

"I had to die sometime." Sam said, shrugging it away.

"You aren't dying on my watch." The Medic growled, "besides, elder, you need to meet your child before you die. I was sent a message from Fenris. You're a father."

"Was a father, doc, was." Sam grumbled.

"Live through this, Painkiller, that's a direct order."

"Well, Lieutenant, I believe I'm your equal. So kiss my ass and order the damn granite already." Sam growled. Ricky stood.

"Well then, you can carry the weight of a Dark Archon." A black ball launched from his chest and phased into Sam. The scythes protruding form Sam's chest suddenly dissolved into nothingness. The medic's arms were a blur as he patched Sam up.

"We need a dropship, ASAP."

"Yeah, that may be some trouble, doc." Bill said, bringing up his rifle.

"Why?"

"There's a few clouds worth of Zerg flying right at us."

Ricky looked up. "Damn."

"Time to go." Justin cried, running past the small group. The Medic heaved Sam up in his Chiurgeon arms.

"Wait." Sam said, in a voice not completely his own. He floated upright then down onto his feet. He held up a single hand. Energy the color of blackest night began to gather literally into the hand. The energy exploded. Scourge began to swerve into the larger of Zerg Organisms. The horde's greatest Arial strength, the massive predictability of the scourge, now worked against them.

"Now we can run." Sam said, then he lost consciousness. The Medic picked him up and began to run, carrying him over his head. Overhead, a massive hammer-like head emerged from the clouds, followed by another, then another, then another. Three massive Behemoth-class Battlecruisers began to fire point-defense autocannons, chewing through the zerg fliers.

Ricky sighed. Another valiant escape.

'Sterman! Get your people out of there!' a captain cried. 'Nukes inbound!'

"Nukes?! Why is always fucking Nukes!?!" Ricky cried, then ran even faster. The Missile struck. Ricky was thrown forwards by the shockwave.

(A month later…)

Ricky couldn't help but stare at the massive form standing beside him. Sam couldn't have been saved, there was too much internal damage, so now he was sealed in a suit of CMC-550 Tactical Dreadnought Armor, a.k.a. Terminator armor, for the rest of his life, unless he wanted to take a cloned body. Ricky privately hoped he would. He couldn't bear to look the man in the eyes. Yet again he'd broken his rifle, but he'd managed to patch it up this time. There had been losses. The medic who had saved Sam's life was in one of the coffins now. So was Michael. His armor's batteries had exploded under the shockwave.

Ricky kept on saluting the fallen even after everyone else had lowered their arms. Sam was back in the Hellmarines. A bittersweet victory. He finally lowered his arm, the ceremony done with, and looked at Sam. The Dark Archon looked back to him.

"It'll always be like this, you know? We're all gonna die out here." Ricky said.

"Not if I can help it." Sam said. "I've got the armor, now. I'll take a million bullets each day to save this team. We're not winding up in one of those." Sam replied.

"You're alright, Painkiller." They turned away from the torpedo loader.

"Locke? The Dark Templar?"

"We'll deal with those problems when we get there." Ricky assured him. "I wanna kick Locke's ass."

Sam paused before speaking. "I'm not gonna stay this way, you know. I can't think straight. I'm just waiting until I get this Archon thing down."

"That's fine." Ricky looked at his watch. He sighed. "I've got to see Dugalle."

& & &

Ricky stepped into the Admirals office, instantly unimpressed with the red carpet. Piano was playing from an ancient record player.

"Sit down, Sterman."

"Sir." He sat down.

Dugalle stepped into his field of vision in a brown dress uniform, a gauss pistol strapped to his waist. He sat down at his desk.

"I asked you here for two reasons, one, to apologize about Locke. I didn't know his mo-"

"Apology accepted. Get to the second point, sir."

"I want you to hunt him down, and eliminate him. The mission will be classified as _EZ_, extremely hazardous or suicidal. I can't give you any support, you will be on your own, possibly for an extended stay. I can regulate you a small, Dreadnought-class Battlecruiser and a pair of Valkerie-class frigates."

"I'll do this, if you promise me two things, first, disassemble the Hellmarines. We're not large enough to continue. They can be fused with the Fenris First, the Space Wolves."

"Done. After they return, they'll be with the Fenris First."

"And I don't want Lieutenant Perry or Ghost Agent Johnson on the mission. They'll remain behind with the First."

Dugalle raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Perry is getting a cloned body soon. He can't get it if he's not here. Johnson, I just don't want her hurt. I'll keep them in the dark. Once the team is gone, send them letters."

Dugalle sighed. "Done." He drew the gauss pistol from its holster. "And one more thing, take this." He tossed it into Ricky's palm. It was lined with gold fiigree, a black chromium finish, rather than just the black gunmetal of a C-14 impaler. Ricky weighed it in his hand. It had two handles, one for his human hand, and a much larger one for the massive hand of a CMC-300 suit.

"It can load regular gauss Rifle ammo." Dugalle said.

Ricky holstered it.

& & &

Ricky stepped into the bridge of the Dreadnought-class Battlecruiser _Abbadon,_ wearing his power armor. The captain nodded to him.

"Welcome aboard the _Abbadon_, Lieutenant." Ricky recognized the voice.

"You're that captain that warned me about the nukes."

"Captain Milliardo Darlian, at your service." He was a tall man, even in the slouchy sitting position, with incredibly pale hair and complexion.

"I think this is gonna be a beautiful friendship."

"Not if you're the one who got me aboard this hulk. This thing has an underpowered Yamato cannon, just four laser cannons, and archer missile pods. The frigates have more firepower."

Ricky sat down near on the edge of the raised platform. He sighed. "Then we'll have to be sneaky, won't we? Like wolves in a blizzard." He rubbed his eyes. He was really insane, he realized. If he didn't survive, Dixie would never know. Ricky sent up a quick prayer to Russ, then left the bridge.

This War was done. The next one was waiting…

& & &

Well, that's it. I'm not gonna cover Sam and Dixie in the next sequel, and it may be much, much longer than Hellmarine and Frost War combined.


End file.
